Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✯☾✯
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗲-𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗻'𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗿𝘆 clinic in hopes that they could come up with an other plan that would work in their favour.
Time was running out. Jenifer had everything she needed to make her sacrifice. They were now only left tortured with the when and the where.
Lizzie, an uncontrollable storm of nerves, could not sit or stand still and took to wandering aimlessly around the clinic in hopes of releasing some trepidation. She'd only just heard that Scott had been on the brink of joining the Alpha Pack to ensure the safety of others.
There was a plan. There was an unpredictable, capricious entity that somewhat formed a resemblance of a plan.
Vital information had been relayed about a supposed Nemeton, a powerful, ancient tree that served as a beacon for supernatural creatures, a focal point for magical energy, and a sacred meeting place for Druids.
Supposedly, this was where The Darach would be able to accumulate as much raw power as it needed it make its sacrifice.
Deaton had proposed his own method of tracking it down without searching endlessly and pointlessly through Beacon Hills, and now that they had Scott back in the safety of their familiar warmth, Deaton decided they had everything they needed for this to take place.
It was Scott, Stiles and Allison whose parents had been taken, they had the intense vigorous connections. They were to be surrogate sacrifices for their parents. In order to undergo this druid-ritual, they were going to be submerged in ice cold water until they were at the point of death. This would create a tether, allowing the trio to form a cognitive connection to find this Nemeton.
It was dangerous, so dangerous even Lizzie could comprehend it, evident by the churning nausea hacking her from the inside out. Her best friends would be technically dead.
Hence, the pack had gathered around three metallic tubs in the clinic, brimming with clean cut ice and overflowing with water.
Lizzie chewed desperately on her bottom lip, feeling the tufts of skin slide bloody through her teeth as she watched Scott, Stiles and Allison each produce and explain their totems, their affinities with both their parents and the over-world.
The Sheriff's badge, a silver bullet and a watch.
Lizzie glanced up, cranking her neck to meet the eyes of her boyfriend, her own glazed over in panic. Isaac, in a similar state himself, could only gently tug the mangled bottom lip from the grasps of her teeth and take hold of her hand.
